


When Cold Can't Stand the Cold

by Crimson1



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Brotp, CaptainCanary, ColdCanary, Friendship, Gen, Legends of Tomorrow - Freeform, WhiteCold, can be read as friends or pre-relationship, have we picked a name for this, len doesn't like to be cold, lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 08:25:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5659462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crimson1/pseuds/Crimson1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Len hates being cold. Seriously. Hates it. But he can't ADMIT that. The fact that he and Sara are alone on Rip's spaceship, and Sara has the softest, warmest looking blanket ever known to man is just plain unfair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Cold Can't Stand the Cold

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr prompt for Captain canary brotp, “I’ll share the blankets with you.” Take it as pre-relationship if you like, and enjoy!

Little known fact about Leonard Snart? He HATES being cold. Loves being Cold, but chilled temperature wise? Despises it. Which really shouldn’t come as a shock considering he always dresses in layers, and has thermal pants, a sweater, parka, and gloves just to handle the cold gun, yet people always stare at him blankly if he expresses discomfort of that nature or, heavens forbid, shivers. 

Space ship time machines, whether flying through space or just back to the 70s, are NOT warm. Mick is a natural furnace; he doesn’t notice. Ray is a bundle of energy and compact muscle, he’s always cozy. Rip is used to his ship’s temperature. Kendra and Carter naturally run hot, and Jax and Martin run even hotter, whether combined or otherwise. But Sara?

Well, Sara claims to be unaffected. She was trained by the League of Assassins; she doesn’t GET cold. But that’s not really the truth. The truth is she doesn’t let the cold bother her, can handle extremes of discomfort on many levels with the poise of a trained soldier, because she is one, but in her own words:

“Just because you can put up with something, doesn’t mean you should.”

So Sara is the only one who thought to pack a blanket with her other belongings. The ship has cots should the need arise to sleep there, and technically has blankets, but more like military issue pieces of sandpaper that do little to contain heat, let alone are welcome to snuggle into. 

Len isn’t the type to complain though. He’s been incarcerated enough, been on the run enough, but usually warmth is one of his highest priorities. So finding himself on a mission through time with few resources to fix the glaring error of not having brought his own blanket for cold nights, or even cold days spent traveling or waiting for the others to return from a solo or smaller group mission, Len chooses to grin and bear it. And he fucking hates that. 

Sitting by, sleeping near, and generally hanging around Mick more than the others tends to offer enough heat most of the time, even merely peripherally. Len has never, would never snuggle his best friend. 

But when it’s just him and Sara left on the ship, sitting in the common area, Sara curled up rather homey with a book and the softest looking throw Len has ever seen snugged around her shoulders, is pretty much torture. Len pours over schematics for the next step in their mission, which requires some B&E that his skills are naturally suited for, and watches Sara out of the corner of his eye.

One side of the blanket is cream and plush like the fur of a rabbit, the other beige and more like micro-suede. It exudes contentment. 

Len shivers in his sweater and thermals, debating snatching his parka to wear, but it’s cumbersome and too telling an act to put it on in here. He can’t concentrate on the schematics though. Keeps tracing his finger along it and losing his train of thought, right leg bouncing beneath the table to keep warm - which isn’t helping. 

It’s half an hour of this, of wasted time, which Len despises, when Sara says, without looking up from her book, “I’ll share the blanket with you. But only if you admit you need it.” 

Len scowls. League of Assassins bullshit. He doesn’t like being around someone who can read him as well as he usually reads others. But he also does, because Sara is more like him than any of the others, even Mick. They can be alone in a room together like this and feel completely at ease. Trust each other to watch the other’s back. Talk or not talk for hours and feel similar camaraderie either way. Unless Len is currently freezing while she sits comfortably in the most fluffy and cozy looking of blankets, torturing him. 

He scowls, his leg ceasing its movement under the table. She glances up at him from her book, small smirk teasing but not unkind. 

“You can go back to freezing when the others get back. I won’t tell anyone.” She adjusts the blanket over her shoulders so it’s lengthwise, and extends the longer end outward, gesturing him in to sit beside her and snuggle into the offered warmth. 

Len doesn’t snuggle. Into blankets maybe, but not other people. 

She tests his patience by proving hers is boundless, arm remaining suspended, holding the blanket outward, fluffiest side in so Len would be able to feel it against his neck if he accepted. He’s always been a tactile person, even if he doesn’t enjoy touch from others much.

He needs an angle. Needs some way to get something more out of this. 

“Just say yes, Snart. There’s no one-upmanship here. We’re on the same side. We won’t owe each other anything. You can buy me a drink at the next stop, if you need an exchange.”

Len feels a renewed shiver run through him. Fuck it. “Not a word,” he says as he slides down the bench, dragging his schematics with him, and allows her to drape the blanket over his shoulders. 

It’s even warmer than he anticipated, especially scrunched next to her, their thighs touching, shoulders bumping. It should be more uncomfortable than it is, but Sara has started to insinuate herself like another Lisa in his life, and he knows how dangerous that is.

“I’m stealing this next time you’re off the ship,” he says, as she returns to her book, and him to his schematics.

“Long as I get it back.”

“No promises.”

“I’ll buy you one for yourself next time we’re in Central.”

“Be more fun to steal that too.”

She pauses, shoulders him a little, lightly rocking them in place. “I’ll think about it.”

Len suppresses a smile. Far too much like Lisa.

THE END


End file.
